For those who might be wondering and are not exactly sure where we live, we have yet to endangered by the wildfires.

They are currently in Los Angeles County from the middle of the city to the north along the Angeles National Forest. We have a close friend who has evacuated her home from the Palisades Fire near Santa Monica, and we have relatives who are likely affected by the Eaton Fires near Pasadena. We have not heard from the relatives yet.

This is over 100 miles from us but the entire Southwest corner is very dry and high Santa Ana winds are with us for the next week or so. If fires do erupt, we are relatively safe. Our home’s location should help a great deal.

i just wanted folks to know we are safe.

Before beginning this post proper, something to heed. On the way back from Christmas on Signal Mountain, i was exposed and caught the flu. i have had my flu and covid shots and thought myself relative free from the dangers. Not so. If you are traveling, especially on a plane, i highly recommend you were a mask. You don’t want what i’m recovering from.

i had begun a rather lengthy post about my 2024 when i lost several close friends. Rising above this despondency, i have been dealing with living as an old man…and that beats the heck out of the alternative. But, i was sidetracked. No need for a review of the past year here.

But on our way back from yet another great Christmas at my sister’s home on Signal Mountain, some despicable character, apparently not well, declined to put on a mask. A rather dumb goofy guy in front of him decided to refrain from donning a mask. Maureen and i came down with an unpleasant malady, sneaking up on us Monday night. In spite of being diligent and having my flu and COVID shots, we caught the flu (tested negative for COVID, thank goodness).

I went down hard for seven days and am still recovering, although no longer contagious.

Essentially, i lost the first week of 2025. It was not fun nor pretty, but it gave me time for thought about where i want to go and how from here.

i”ve repeated Dicken’s first paragraph from A Tale of Two Cities often. It applies here, but i will not repeat it. 2024 was miserable for me but there were lots of good things as well. Age is beginning to exhibit its discomforts. Although not critical or life-threatening yet, some surgery looms. Annoying conditions in joints and muscles are moving toward more than annoying. Restrictions on what i eat, drink, and what i do are growing.

But i’m in pretty good shape for an old man. i can live as long as i can live. That is now finite but unknown. Good things with family abound and have outlooks that please me.

i have lost friends, but i have friends.

There will be changes, for me, for my writing, for my relations. My posts in groups will change. i won’t predict what they could be, but there will be changes…Always, there is change.

So, here’s my plan. i’m going to do what i can. i’m going to put one step ahead of the other and then follow suit, speed to be determined. i am going to love my loved ones even more. i am going to like people even though i disagree with them. i am going to try to not throw rocks over the wall. i’m going to follow that old customer service dictum of “walking in the customer’s shoes” before playing the blame game.

And i’m going to attempt to live well and always do what is right.

i think i have a pretty good chance because i have a lot of help.

…and she’s pretty too.

i’m sitting in my sister’s great room up on the mountain, Signal Mountain outside of Chattanooga. It is Christmas Eve.

Maureen, my sister Martha, and her husband Todd are getting ready for the 5:00 Children’s Christmas Service at the Signal Crest Methodist Church. The Duff’s three grandchildren and one great granddaughter are in the Christmas Drama. Christmas Eve Dinner at the Duffs will follow. Martha will play the bells at the midnight service. Right now, Martha and i are the only ones who will attend both.

After all, she is my sister.

i have put the wood in the fireplace for lighting when the crowd returns from the service. There will be 13 of us. The Christmas tree lights are on. The sun shines through the multiple trees on the down slope on the back of their home. About the same number for the fabulous Christmas Eve Dinner at the Duffs.

i sit thinking Christmas memories. My wife and sister have already sparked one memory. The crew came last night for Martha’s spaghetti and Maureen’s salad. Before the bunch got here, i watched the two in the kitchen as i helped set the tables. It took me back. Growing up, our Christmases were at our house, our aunt and uncle’s house in Red Bank, another suburb of Chattanooga, or at our other aunt and uncle’s house in Lebanon. The three sisters, Mother, Aunt Evelyn, and Aunt Bettye Kate jointly prepared the Christmas dinner. Whomever was the hostess was the head cook, but all three contributed. Watching last night’s preparations, i was taken back to over six decades ago.

It was a lovely memory. i will entertain many more before we leave on Friday to stay overnight near the Nashville airport to catch our flight back to the Southwest corner on Saturday.

i hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas filled with cherished memories.

It is time for my annual post about an inglorious day for Christmas celebration. It revolves around a Christmas sign i made and hoisted years ago and continues as our only outdoor Christmas decoration.

i thought about that tonight. i grilled Italian Sausage for supper. Maureen did the hard work of preparing the mashed potatoes, the peas, the bread with olive oil, and another of her exquisite salads.

It was cool for most of the country, cold we would call it. i started the charcoal in the low 50’s, sipped on my martini as i watched the grill heat up. My potpourri of music was playing on my bluetooth speaker as sunset fell below our slope. i had on a zippered sweatshirt. Saturn sparkled above the western horizon over my right shoulder. The silver dollar of a moon collaborated with Jupiter to the east on my left shoulder. The music played on.

It wasn’t Christmas songs, but i thought of Noel. Our neighborhood has become an amusement park of decorations. Lights dominate the night. Yesterday, as Maureen rode with me to the Bonita Golf Club so i could have their un-gussied up bowl of chili with a beer. i pointed out that there had been several mass executions in our neighborhoods. Santas, Grinches, Rudolphs, and other sundry Christmas characters had been drained and were flat on the ground. Miraculously, they will rise when the homeowner pumps air into them again before the brutal slayings occur again at daybreak, over and over.

My “NOEL” sign seems sadly lacking, but in a way, satisfying because i made it, did not buy it from Walmart, Home Depot, Lowes, Costco, or Amazon. You see, i really am a curmudgeon and Christmases past with a holly wreath on the door and a cedar tree decorated in the corner of the living room, both installed about a week before and removed the day after Christmas seemed…well, more reverent to me.

As i tended the grill closely, i saw this wonderful woman employing her many skills in the light of the kitchen. Maureen is a beautiful woman. Her beauty changes with age but does not diminish. Her caring for others goes beyond that beauty. It remains amazing to me she loves me. i am a lucky man.

This brings me back to my “NOEL” sign. When i originally made it to honor one of my previous fathers-in-law, it was heavy, one by two wood sign with holes drilled for the lights to push through. This is the one in the story. Then, i made a lighter one. But i did not drill holes, i simply strung lights on the letters.

i was not pleased with my efforts and consulted Maureen about taking it down and redoing it to make the letters more legible in the night. Maureen, considering the amount of work i had put in, told me it looked neat, artsy. She’s the expert in that kind of thing.

After i hung it up this year, i was complaining about the lights not conforming to the letters again, this time she agreed. i realized she had been yanking my chain to reduce my work and make me feel good. This year’s results;

Next year should be interesting.

It is time to return to the Christmas season day of infamy story:

◆◆◆

Have you ever had one of those days when everything turned into an embarrassment? I had a champion day like that several years ago.

It started innocently while I hung our outdoor decoration, a home-made “NOEL” sign, from the eave of our garage, hoping to get it up before my wife’s friends arrived for their Christmas dinner.

Maureen and her six friends have been meeting monthly for dinners for 15-plus years. They had this December dinner catered, did it up right. It was Maureen’s turn to be hostess.

It was dark when I began. I was at the top of my step ladder attaching the second of two wires from the sign to hooks secured to the eave when the ladder lurched and toppled. I grabbed a metal ornamental grating above the garage door.

There I hung, my arm intertwined with the “O” of the sign. If I tried to drop, the sign could catch my arm and do some pretty bad stuff.

I yelled, but Maureen had Christmas carols at top volume and didn’t hear. I tried to think of what to do while simultaneously wondering how long I could hold on. The dog wandered underneath, occasionally looking up as if I was a very strange person hanging there.

After several minutes, a neighbor’s son and friend pulled into the driveway several houses away. As they emerged, I swallowed my pride and yelled “Help.”

At first, they could not discern who was calling. Then they spotted me and came to help. The dog decided to protect me and began barking threateningly. The boys hesitated. I assured them the only danger was being licked to death. They finally righted the ladder and helped me down.

I thanked them profusely and then studied whether I should tell Maureen or not. Now that I was back on solid ground, I decided it was too funny not to tell her. She was incredulous and not particularly amused.

I did not realize my embarrassment for the night was just beginning.

While Maureen made final arrangements for her dinner, our daughter, Sarah, and I went to a local spot for supper. The little place was an oasis of sorts in Bonita, where there were only Mexican, Italian, and fast food restaurants. The attraction was different, having an interesting variety on the menu and wide-range of ales and beers for golfers finishing a round across the street.

When we arrived, two couples were at tables and three guys sat at the bar. As we neared the end of our meal, the largest of the guys at the bar walked to the door and then turned back. I noticed his eyes seemed glazed. Then, he walked back to the bar.

Suddenly, this guy and the one on the other side grabbed the guy in the middle off his stool, slammed him into the wall and started pummeling him with their fists. The three male diners, me (instinctively) included, approached from one side and two cooks approached from the back. Sarah had retreated to the door with the two lady diners. I grabbed the big guy. He spun and fell backward, slamming us into our table, knocking it over with shattering glass. It gave me some leverage, and we spun to the floor with me on top and knocking the wind out of the big guy. The other two diners helped me hold him until he calmed down. The cooks had quelled the other assailant. The two left quietly followed by the guy they had pounded.

Even though the waitress wanted us to not pay our bill, we paid and left for home. On the way, I talked to my daughter about what I should have done (directed her outside before joining the fray) and what she should do the next time if she were ever in a place where a fight broke out (get out and away and not come back until she was sure it was over). i admonished her not to spoil her mother’s dinner party, adding i would tell her mother after the guests had departed. Sarah nodded.

I was feeling pretty good as we arrived home. Then Sarah dashed out of the car, ran into the house and yelled to her mother in front of the caterer and her six friends dressed to the nines amidst fine china, Christmas decorations, and haut cuisine, “Mom, Dad got in a fight in a bar.”

Some days, I just can’t get a break.

May your holiday season be embarrassment free.

May all of you have a most wonderful and amazing Christmas Season, and “Please, Please, Please (as James Brown once sang) remember the reason for the season,